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Sunday, June 21, 2009 at 08:03PM I found the sun, my fellow Philadelphians! It’s been hiding out in North Carolina.
It’s so lovely here. And so very sunny, which is all a girl needs to get her beach on.
After all that rain, we aren’t taking this baby for granted. No, siree. We are soaking up every ray we can.
Until the very last moment, when it silently slips into the sea.
I could get use to this life…
Thursday, June 18, 2009 at 12:00PM “Mommy,” she asked, “Why don’t you like the rain on your car?”
“What do you mean? I don’t mind if my car gets wet.” I give her a quick curt answer, completely distracted.
“But you keep wiping it away.”
“What?” I am completely confused for a minute until I realize what she means. “The windshield wipers?” Laughing to myself, I explain, “Sweetie, I have to wipe the rain away or I won’t be able to see where I’m going.”
“Mommy, it’s so sad you have to wipe it away. I think it is just so beautiful.”
She seemed so distraught over it, that I offer a compromise. “Tell you what. When we get to school, we can sit for a while and watch it hit the windshield. Without the wipers. OK?”
And that is just what we did. We sat parked outside of her school watching the rain fall down on the windshield until she broke the silence. “Don’t you think it’s just so beautiful, Mommy?”
Instead of committing an outright lie, I just turned to her and smiled. “C’mon honey, we have to go now.”
After dropping her off and darting back to my car, I just sat there for a moment, by myself this time and watched the rain pounding against the windshield.
“No.” I admitted out loud. “I do not think it’s beautiful.”
In fact, I thought it was ugly and depressing. After three months of continuous rainy days, I am very bitter. And with each morning that I wake and realize another one of my precious summer days is being stolen from me, I get even more bitter. It’s June. It should be sunny and warm, not dreary and cold.
And yet I sat there some more, watching it pour on my windshield. Not because I thought the rain was “just so beautiful” as my daughter put it. But because I thought my daughter was just so beautiful. And languishing in the memory of a sweet and innocent moment with her is like capturing a small ray of sunshine that can get me through yet another gloomy day.
The Kid Tuesday, June 9, 2009 at 05:00PM People, I’m floored!
Yes, after five long long years, I finally have my hard wood floors! I cannot tell you how happy I am. I don’t think I could have looked at those beat up old floors for another year. I mean really, this is what I have been dealing with:
Honestly. Turquoise floors.
I mean, how does one work with turquoise painted floors? Especially chipped, scratched, stained floors with gaps everywhere I might add.
Anyway, they are gone now. Gone. Done. Forever. They are buried beneath these beauties:
Brazilian cherry!
I know these pictures suck, so you really can’t get the full effect of this transformation. But believe me, it is HUGE! I feel like I woke up in a new house. Everything looks like it belongs and hasn’t been tossed there by chance. The place looks clean for the first time ever.
But the new floors aren’t the only reason I say I’ve been floored. The night we had them installed, my husband and I were just lounging around, sort of in a trance state as we were so exhausted after putting all the furniture back and dusting off every surface. Then out of the blue, he turns to me and says, “Hon, I really think the new floors work great with the southwest theme you have going on.”
So I ask him, what does he mean by Southwestern theme? And he says, “You know. The Albuquerque-Native-American-Stuff. Even though the floors are no longer turquoise, I think everything still works together.”
I just stared at him because I was floored.
Now truth be told, I do have a lot of Native American items around the house that I brought back from my years living in New Mexico. Like the Sand Art paintings that are in the bathroom. And the kiva ladder that is in Piper’s bedroom. Or the Acoma pottery in our bedroom.
But here is a brief look at my downstairs, where the new floors are.
WTF? Southwest?
I’m still confused.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009 at 12:00PM My house was a zoo on Saturday. Literally, folks. I am not exaggerating here. Thanks to the Philadelphia Zoo on Wheels, Piper’s fourth birthday party was a blast! The zoo handlers, Ashely and Alex, were amazing, really amazing! Endless energy and patience!
They played silly animal games with the kids and then painted their faces (I use the term kids loosely as even my husband got his face painted):
And then came the animals. But first we had to show our “Zoo Two’s” before we can touch them. Piper had the zoo two’s down pat. As did big mamma, who couldn’t resist petting Quito, the silkie chicken (might have even knocked a few toddlers out of my way in the process):
We also saw Tiny, the rather large tortoise and Penny, the sweet little rabbit.
But the main attraction was Pinky, the armadillo, who ate worms right out of Piper’s hand with his long snout (which “tickled a lot” I am told).
For the entire day, this huge smile never left Piper’s face, she was so beside herself with excitement and joy. And really, what more can a mother ask for in life? It makes me want to do this every weekend! Well, sorta.
Hey, an armadillo peed all over my house, and all I got was this lousy tee shirt!
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